


Glints of Sunlight

by redjacket



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redjacket/pseuds/redjacket
Summary: Diana woke up before dawn, all at once, as she usually did. Steve stirred when she slipped out of bed but a kiss settled him again, left him dreaming.Paris was never quiet but it was quieter that early in the morning. Diana liked to run then, farther and faster than any man could. Paris was the first city in man’s world that she had loved. She liked feeling the city wake around her as she ran through its streets.





	Glints of Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Day six of the [Wondertrev Love week: prompt, present day](https://wondertrevnet.tumblr.com/post/175651939595/wondertrev-love-week-2018-4-11-august).

Diana woke up before dawn, all at once, as she usually did. Steve stirred when she slipped out of bed but a kiss settled him again, left him dreaming. 

Paris was never quiet but it was quieter that early in the morning. Diana liked to run then, farther and faster than any man could. Paris was the first city in man’s world that she had loved. She liked feeling the city wake around her as she ran through its streets. 

Steve was awake when she returned, though not out of bed yet. Diana could not help but lean over and kiss him on her way to the shower. She loved him like this, soft and warm from sleep. 

She hummed into the kiss and his eyes crinkled with a grin. 

“Good run?” He asked, swinging himself into a seated position. His hair was an unruly riot and running a hand through it only made it worse.

“Yes.” Diana kissed him again, the corner of his mouth, his lips. “I picked up croissants from that new bakery.” 

“Hmm, good, I've been meaning to try it,” Steve said. They were listing toward each other, as they always did. Steve kissed her lips, and then her shoulder. His hand trailed along her side. 

“I have a meeting first thing,” Diana reminded him.

“That shouldn’t be allowed,” Steve remarked. 

“Dr. Chou is calling in,” Diana told him. “We had to allow for time difference.” 

He kissed her shoulder again and forced himself to lean away, stretching. He ran another hand through his hair  — it did nothing to help  — and smiled at her. “Eggs with the croissants?” 

“Please,” Diana said, and kissed him one more time, briefly, lest they be tempted into more. It was too easy a thing, even now. 

When she emerged from the shower, Steve had breakfast on the table. Diana no longer raised an eyebrow at the size of it, Steve was no more likely to do things by half than she was.

They had eggs  — with cheese and onions and mushrooms  — and the croissants with jam  — they both agreed they were good but not as good as the bakery they had been frequenting for nearly 15 years  — and fresh cut fruit and coffee. 

And the newspaper. Diana smiled at the way Steve snapped open the pages, frowning in concentration as he skimmed the text. They both had tablets and phones and a variety of digital subscriptions, of course, but neither of them were ready to give up their print subscriptions — _Libération_ in the morning, _le Monde_ and the _Guardian_ in the evening.

Diana was just happy Steve had switched to digital subscriptions for  _ most  _ of his aviation magazines. They had had a tendency to pile up in the oddest places.   

Diana finished her eggs and stretched her arms over her head. Steve glanced at her over the top of his paper. She snagged the last bite of his croissant. Steve didn’t bat an eyelash, just reached over to pour the rest of her coffee into his mug in exchange. 

“I’ll be home early tonight,” Diana reminded him. 

Steve took a sip of his pilfered coffee. “Did you decide whether you want to go out for dinner or stay in?” 

Diana shrugged. “Were you planning on going to the market today?”

“Mmm. I need to anyway,” Steve said. 

“Then, if something inspires you, we will stay in,” Diana told him, leaning over to kiss him briefly. “And if not, we will go out.”

He smiled at her. “All right. I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Diana went to dress. When she came out of their bedroom, Steve had moved to the balcony with the last of the coffee and the paper. 

She stepped outside. He tilted his head towards her. She cupped his face and kissed him slowly.

It would have been very easy to kiss him again.

“You’re going to be late,” Steve told her. “Early morning meetings are the worst.”

“I do not disagree,” Diana replied, she kissed the top of his head before stepping away. “Have a good day.”

“You too. Don’t kill anyone in marketing!”

A packed lunch was waiting for her by the front door. Diana paused long enough grab it  — she would not have time to go out for lunch today and Steve knew it. 

She glanced back at him, sitting on the balcony, the early morning sunlight just beginning to glint off his hair. 

Diana smiled to herself and closed their front door quietly behind her. 

—

Work was, as usual, engaging. Diana was not always a fan of the marketing department but she liked her colleagues, particularly the young ones. There enthusiasm was catching and they were always taken by such delightful surprise when she joined them for lunch. 

It was a relatively quiet day. Natalia from marketing, who was terrified of her but relatively sensible, had run with an idea Diana had brought up in a meeting and wanted to check something with her. Her counterpart at the British Museum called to rail about the latest article of an American colleague. There was a minor kerfuffle when some school children accidentally pushed a tourist across one of their exhibit safety lines.

She had an email from Bruce  — one of his periodic job offers  — which she ignored, knowing it was,  _ mostly _ , a joke to him now. 

She received 17 texts from Barry by, which she answered. 

There was a folded piece of paper tucked into her lunch, which she read without comment in front of the junior staffers and tucked away in her purse as they all whispered to each other, assuming it was a note from her lover. 

It was, in fact, from Steve. It was his grocery list, which he must have waylaid. But it did Diana no harm to let her young colleagues have their dreams. 

She texted him a picture of the list. He responded with a smiley face and a picture of a green door, which meant he wanted to repaint something or that his finger had slipped. He was not overly fond of his new phone. 

Either way, it made Diana smile as she headed in to her next meeting.

—

It began to rain when Diana was halfway home. Tourists and locals alike ran for any available doorways and awnings to get out of the surprise, late afternoon downpour. Most of them were laughing. 

One particularly prepared woman pulled an umbrella out of her purse, and opened it with the flourish of someone who had been teased for carrying it around all day. Another woman darted out from where she had taken shelter under a restaurant awning to join her and they leaned together, giggling, in the manner of old friend or new lovers, as they walked on. 

Standing in the midst of it, Diana slung her purse over her shoulder and smiled as she continued on her way home. It was the kind of hot, muggy day where the rain felt like relief as it hit the parched city streets. 

It made Diana playful. As she neared their apartment, she slipped down a quiet back alley and checked to see if anyone was watching. When no one was, she leapt, flying through the summer rain and cooling air to land lightly on their balcony. 

Steve looked amused when he opened the balcony door for her. “Decided you wanted to make an entrance?”

“Something like that,” Diana said. 

She noticed, as she stepped inside, the way Steve’s eyes lingered on her, the dull flush that was starting to climb up his throat. Diana handed him her purse and started to peel her wet clothing off. 

Steve dropped her purse.

“Will dinner keep?” Diana asked. 

“I don’t care,” Steve answered. “But yes. Yes, it will,”

He was grinning when he stepped forward to kiss her.

\--

Dinner was burned, though not beyond recognition, and neither of them minded much  — they had both eaten much, much worse in their lifetimes. Once the rain stopped, they sat on the balcony, and watched the lights of Paris blink on as evening settled in. 

“Is this what you thought life would be like?” Diana asked him. He looked at her and she clarified: “After the war.”

It was a question she had asked him periodically over the years. The answer both stayed the same and changed. 

“No,” Steve said, the response that remained constant. “Who could imagine this?”

He could have meant all the changes, the technology, the dress, the societal norms, the wars that had followed on the heels of the First World War. He could have meant all the ways they changed, together, or the friends they had made and lost along the way. 

Diana knew that was not what he meant. 

Steve took her hand and smiled at her, a soft smile, and Diana knew exactly what he meant. The love between them, the certainty and comfort and vitality of it, had been impossible for Steve to imagine. Until he met her.

“I love you,” Steve told her.

Diana returned his smile. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this thinking it fit into the _Kind Old Sun_ universe. And it does. But it also doesn't have to.


End file.
